


Ataraxia

by infinitywritten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Communication, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Past Castiel/April Kelly, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Soft Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 14:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18551986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitywritten/pseuds/infinitywritten
Summary: Ataraxianoun;a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.The one where Cas and Dean talk about what happened with April at 4 AM.





	Ataraxia

**Author's Note:**

> **Ataraxia**  
>  _noun;_  
>  a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.
> 
> Thank you to [This Tweet ](https://twitter.com/AnchorsOutAtSea/status/1119722470032990209) for inspiring this ficlet.  
> Thank you to [my Kaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywarded) for betaing on short notice.  
> And to [ Dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream) for listening to me rant.  
> This takes place some time after S9 E3, and deals with potential triggers (as follows): mentions of Cas' sexual abuse and near death (with April), calling it what it is (abuse), as well as a tiny bit of self depreciating Dean Winchester.  
> I've been struggling a bit with writing, so, randomly I sit down after reading a tweet, and spout out 1.7k of mostly fluffy Destiel.  
> I hope you enjoy it- if you do, please leave a comment. They're lovely and make my day.

* * *

* * *

 

One runs out of normal things to talk about when they’re trying to fall asleep beside a cosmic being who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word tired.

At least, not in a physical sense.

It’s not entirely an ideal situation outwardly. Cas doesn’t sleep, and when Dean sleeps, he has nightmares. It doesn’t make for a good 6-10 hour relationship with the back of his eyelids, but the arrangement has shockingly been good for them- both Cas and Dean.

It has led to its less-than-conventional moments, though.

Like tonight. Or, rather, this morning.

It’s 4 ‘o freaking clock AM, or as Dean likes to call it, ass-’o-clock- which basically equates to any time before the sun rises that he should be sleeping, and isn’t.

To be fair, Dean can’t be blamed for the things he talks about when he’s so tired, his brain is no longer present in the waking world. Cas though, Cas has no excuse as far as Dean is concerned- seeing how he doesn’t sleep and all.

He’s reached that level of 4 AM tired that equates to about the same brainspace as having more than a few too many cups of whiskey. They’ve been laughing at nothing for the past hour. Dean doesn’t even think Cas gets half of the jokes he tells, but he laughs anyway- as if Dean’s laughter is just contagious. Doesn’t matter to Dean how it happens- Cas’ laugh is beautiful and elusive and he could bask in it for hours without wanting to fall asleep and miss it.

And now, Dean has no idea how it’s happened- but they’ve started talking about sex.

And, it’s...surprisingly not funny.

Not at all.

Not even a little.

And not even kinky.

They’re talking about April. About the things that Cas did with April.

And Cas doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

And Dean...Dean can’t see anything _right_ with it.

He can remember being jealous. He can remember playing it off with humor. And now, he’s got a guttural sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that no one should have to feel when it’s dark outside and everything in you is just a bit more vulnerable than usual.

Because sex is supposed to be about having a good time, right?

Because that’s what he was jealous of, right? Someone else giving Cas a good time. Someone else seeing that side of _his_ angel. Seeing the way his chest would move as his breaths would become deeper, more pronounced. Watch the subtle changes on his skin, slick with sweat, covered in goosebumps. Hear the sounds pushing against his tongue and through chapped lips that he licks way too often for Dean’s sanity.

Dean’s thought about it more than anyone else knows. _Especially_ Cas.

And, now, that jealousy is irrelevant, because everything Cas is telling him is everything that sex _isn’t_ supposed to be. He feels anger building in his chest, coiling tightly around his senses and blurring them. He wants April to die again.

But, there’s more, too. Something more pronounced than simple anger. Guilt, maybe? Regret? Definitely sadness.

They usually don’t face each other. Part of Dean’s bro-code of bed-sharing. Which, in plainer terms, if Dean really thinks about it, simply means he can’t look at Cas without wanting something he shouldn’t want. Every time they look at each other just a little too long, he feels it, so, naturally, he tries to _avoid_ feeling it.

He readjusts to face Cas, but Cas doesn’t move. He stays still on his back and Dean can’t help but to roll his eyes, taking Cas’ arm and guiding him onto his side. He doesn’t let go once Cas has readjusted, but rather, slips his hand down into the empty space between Castiel’s fingers. And it’s the most goddamn intimate thing he’s possibly ever done with someone. And yet, it’s not nearly reassuring enough.

“That wasn’t okay, Cas. What she did.”

There are words to describe that. Abuse. A different kind of abuse than Dean had experienced early on in his life, but just as dark a place, Dean imagines, just as scary.

“It was nice,” Cas says, still trying to protect Dean, “I mean, before.”

Dean shakes his head.

“Before she tried to freakin’ kill you…” Dean says in a low, softer rumble. “It was abuse, Cas. And it wasn’t okay. And it’s not meant to be like that.”

“I’m fine, Dean.” Castiel reassures.

Fucking hell, Cas is trying to reassure _him_ , when, if anything, he should _blame_ him. For putting Cas in any sort of position to let that happen to begin with. It was. It was his fault.

Cas deserves tender kisses and gentle touches so that when the rough stuff happens, he knows it’s from a place of love and mutual consent- not a place of danger or anger. Deserves to know that when Dean looks at him, he’s looking at his entire world.

Cas deserves to know he means that much to someone.

Cas deserves the elusive ‘I love you’ kind of sex. Doesn’t think that one night stands and empty orgasms are gonna do it for the angel. His fault. All his fault that that option wasn’t there for Cas. That, or a home to come back to. His fault.

_I’m so sorry._

He’s beating himself up again in his head. He stays lost there for what must be minutes before Castiel’s voice interrupts his darker thoughts.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“What are you doing? Is this meant to be human comfort?”

Dean looks down at their hands, barely visible in the darkness, before realizing that he’s absently stroking Cas thumb with his own, protectively.  “I’m holding your hand, Cas,” he replies, blushing and thankful that Cas can’t see it. “Wanna protect you.”

“It’s nice,” Castiel replies, surprisingly without retort that he’s an angel of the lord and doesn’t need protection, especially from things that are over and done. Dean expected that. The fact that he doesn’t hear it throws him.

But he is feeling a few different things. Dean’s feeling his own heart rate go up at a positive reassurance, and bitterness that he’s just used the same word twice. Nice.

He wants to give Cas so much more than ‘nice’.

Wants to give him new words, like: safety, and love.

Real love. Not the kind that lasts for two minutes on a high, and comes down, gets dressed and leaves- or, in Cas’ case, tries to stab you with an angel blade.

 **_Stabs_ ** _you with an angel blade._

There’s silence. It’s dark, and Dean can’t see the mesmerizing shade of blue in Castiel’s eyes- but he can feel the connection, present as ever, darkness aside.

He really can’t be blamed for his actions at 4 AM. His brain is fuzzy, and full of protective and warm feelings. He reaches his hands out, missing the warmth of Cas’ hand in his own for just a moment before he’s cupping the angel’s cheeks, running a thumb lovingly along the stubble there. That’ll take some getting used to, if this is what Cas wants. But, Dean finds that it’s very much what he wants from Cas. Has known that for forever now.

But he _doesn’t_ know what Cas wants. And that’s...that’s scary. And, so, when he says what he’s about to do it comes out soft enough, but kind of all at once, “I wanna kiss you.”

“Why?”

Ever literal, his angel.

_Because I love you, you idiot._

“Because I…”

Dean feels himself shaking with the weight of his words. And he tries again.

“I…”

It shouldn’t be this hard. He’s said it in his fantasies, and in his dreams a hundred million times.

“I love you, Cas.”

Anxiety bubbles up in his gut, because _fuck_ , what if that’s the stupidest thing he’s said in his life? People _run_ from shit like this all the time.

And he wants plenty from Cas. But not at the cost of him running.

But the angel’s still there.

“I want you to kiss me, Dean.”

It's that simple.

Dean closes the distance, his lips soft and pliant against Castiel’s. It’s a tender kiss. It’s a questioning kiss- gentle.

And then, respectively, Dean pulls away. And he waits. He waits for...well, it must be the longest thirty seconds or so of his life before he has to blurt something else out-

“It shoulda been with me.”

“What?”

And Cas heard him, because it’s soft, the most loving and gentle question Dean thinks he’s ever heard. And it does things to his heart.

Things that maybe he doesn’t deserve- but that Cas deserves. Feelings that Dean wants to give back to Cas.

“Your first. If. If you wanted it to-”

“Of course I wanted it to be with you,” Castiel interrupts. “I’ve always wanted it to be with you.”

The angel doesn’t wait another minute before looping his arm around Dean, dragging him closer by the small of his back.

“I love you, too,” Castiel says when their lips are so close that Dean can feel the warm air of Cas’ breath tickling his lips, “I thought you knew that.”

And yeah, he did.

Their second kiss lasts longer. Is more. It’s full of time- years waited and lost, years that they try and get back. Love that’s battled uphill over rocks and mud to get to this moment. Regret, pain, loss. Passion, tenderness, devotion.

Castiel fits his fingers against the scarred flesh of Dean’s arm, fingers fitting perfectly in the raised flesh. Dean shudders, gripping tightly back onto Cas.

They could have it all. Right here. Dean could try and make up for…

_...No. Not tonight._

Cas deserves more than this. Cas deserves him when the sun’s risen, and he’s not hiding this in the shadows. Cas deserves reassurance that Dean wants this, too. Not just tonight, but every day. He deserves safety, and he deserves to feel like he means something. And those things don’t happen overnight. They also don’t happen in years of silence in one moment of vulnerability.

They happen like Cas’ first time should have happened- with love. With care.

They happen with good intention, with clarity, with love, and the three little words seem like the best start they could hope for.

There are plenty more firsts for Dean to share with Cas. He wants them to be right. And they will be. Because they, the two of them, together. They’re right. He thinks maybe he’s known that for a long time.

And everything they are and everything they will become is so much better than ‘nice’.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, again, it's me. Thank you for reading <3\. 
> 
> If you liked my work, please feel free to hit the heart button, or subscribe to my future work. It's my endeavor to write (mostly) healthy things for Destiel.  
> Comments are loved more than you know.  
> And if you really loved my work, there is always the option of taking me out for a Ko-Fi (see what I did there with the dad jokes?) by clicking [ here.](https://ko-fi.com/A78534DM#)  
> All my love.  
> -Dean


End file.
